The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows Read online

CHAPTER TWO

  IDRIS STROLLED AROUND the gas station in which he maintained. The station, which was a small little building that adjoined to the diner, contained the essentials—alcohol (both beer and liquor), soda, snacks, and assorted candies. It was well-kept, in spite of the other nearby stations that were a bit…run down. It was all about lower gas prices. Political agendas, something Idris, didn’t care. Another reason he felt he shouldn’t bother enlisting. Granted, he was thankful of his forefathers, and all those in his family that fought for the greater good, but nowadays, he would rather run the diner, then run off to war for someone else’s ideals.

  Here, it was quaint. It didn’t have that motor oil smell or gas. White linoleum sprawled itself over the entire floor. A few rows—about five—of snacks and candy, while there were six coolers for beer, dairy, and soda. Those ran along the back corner, near the breezeway that led to the diner. In front of the front windows were small displays of soda, cases of beer and chips. Prices marked down for easy customer purchase and near the exit for appropriate consumption (provided if it was alcohol, it stated on the small sign posted by the door and beer cases that alcohol was not to be consumed on the premises). Above the register—and even behind it—was the little tobacco and lotto nook (for the compulsive and hopeful gambler, and the everyday-down-on-their-luck worker) different cigars, cigarettes, snuff, chew, and various scratch offs and the old lotto machine.

  Essentially, this ideal hole in the wall (which ironically, it was from the diner’s perspective), was a small slice of heaven-on-the-go. The back wall was a nice little meal slip containing—nachos, hot dogs, pizza, and other fresh made items. Nearby was a modern self-serve soda fountain, complete with plastic cups for consumer consumption, priced at remarkable prices that egged on to buy immediately. In stock, there were oversized mugs that offered more bang for your buck, promoting to buy one and get your favorite filled beverage free, or free with the purchase of select named hot n’ fresh food-to-go.

  Albeit, even though the station’s food was freshly prepared, Idris and Cal always preferred going into their dad’s diner and making something to eat. Who knows, it could lead to the menu or even the weekly special.

  Idris smiled. He and his brother had crafted next week’s special—Pepper jack cheese stuffed burgers, with a pan-fried egg laid on the beefy bed. Garnished with the fixings: lettuce, pickles, tomato, onions, mayo, mustard and ketchup (per customer’s request of course). The new gut buster went up to a triple stacked mountain, and could even be garnished with bacon. It was their first crown achievement that they had accomplished this month, and still, they had a plethora of ideas to grill out.

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver polished pocket watch, attached to it was a long small silver chain that attached to the inside of his blue jean jacket. He smiled, reading the inscription his little brother had dedicated to him.

  Here’s to my big brother and fellow grill master, Idris. ~ Cal V

  He tucked the watch back into his coat pocket and turned his gaze out. He peered through the window at the tan van that had remained in the parking lot. It had been a few days and still. He saw no one go near it.

  He turned around and walked over to his father, who was busy counting money in the register. “Hey, Dad? Do you know who’s van that is?”

  “Twenty-three, twenty-four, hang on a moment, Idris, twenty-five, twenty-six...” his dad counted, putting large amounts of money in a small faded blue bag, along with a rubber band bound wad of white slips. “Alright,” he zipped up the bag and looked down at his son. “now, what was your question?”

  Idris sighed at his father. It wasn’t uncommon for his dad to forget things when it came to ‘family matters’ but when it came to tending the diner, let alone anything business related, he was spot on. Especially when it came to the kitchen, James was like some unbound storm that thrashed wildly everywhere. You could rattle off a whole list of orders, and he could memorize everything to a T.

  Idris walked over to his father, behind the gas station counter. “That van, do you know who’s it is?”

  James looked up, out through the station’s window. “Hmm, not really. Did you ask your mom?”

  Idris ran his palm over his face. “She said to ask you.”

  James chuckled lightly, “Ah, that woman,” he sighed. “Well, I can take the plate down, and have the police run the plates, and say it was abandoned here. They can deal with it.”

  Idris nodded and turned around to look at the van.

  It sure seems like there’s an awful lot of stuff in there.

  He was right, and his curiosity would get the best of him.